Smith Poem by Liza Sud
Smith
I am grateful for everything!
Because you forge so tightly,
You are straightening my wings
Burn in my soul - all the lying!
You are forging the purest sense
In the crucible of my soul -
You have whetted my love ablaze-
made me - Libra, the scales of all.
I'm sorry, that I fall down,
Burning in race as a star
I'm broken to blood by the ground,
Giving birth to the heat around!
They crucify me every minute,
Because I bear your light,
I call them in Your ageless kingdom
as a beam of the sun.
I'm only you sparkling needle
In Your really skillful hands!
You are stitching my life by meaning -
You'll sew them all to You, through all times!
http: //www.stihi.ru/2008/02/05/2578
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12/23/2025 5:12:29 AM # 1.0.0
This strikes me as a poem of martyrdom: THEY CRUCIFY ME EVERY MINUTE BECAUSE I BEAR YOUR LIGHT. The sewing images in the last stanza display a God who is healing the wounds caused by the very nature of the world he created. The faith that rings in that last stanza is truly remarkable. I take it that the title refers to God as a blacksmith testing his saints in the crucible of experience. This poem displays passion and faith - as partners in achieving a spiritual identity. This poem has resonance to reach the most distant seeker.